


Salty my Sweat and Fingertips

by galimau



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M, Sea Monsters, monster pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25924714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galimau/pseuds/galimau
Summary: Tom swore that Alex was like a brother to him, even when he'd vanished and come back with tentacles and gills and an inability to eat junk food on the couch.Years down the line, Tom is still the first one to find out about any happy surprises, even when Alex would really not bother his friend with some of the sordid details of his life.
Relationships: Tom Harris & Alex Rider, Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Comments: 7
Kudos: 100





	Salty my Sweat and Fingertips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oceanbreeze7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbreeze7/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Moonfish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25341307) by [Oceanbreeze7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbreeze7/pseuds/Oceanbreeze7). 



> A gift for Kae, who wrote Moonfish and then listened to me yell about it for about a month straight.

Tom loved having Alex visit. Yes, because he was his best friend. Yes, because all the time spent on certain corners of the internet had given him a persistent fear of megladon and their giant teeth. But also because Tom had always been more curious than was good for him, and Alex was the only one who had answers.

“So the moonfish in the pond - it’s a female? With eggs?”

Tom could almost understand that - it looked a little like caviar, even though he had a feeling Alex wouldn’t appreciate that comparison. He hadn’t expected their species to have eggs, given that Alex’s transformation was more like a very wet werewolf than a natural birth, and he’d assumed that the trend held.

“It wouldn’t have to be a female.” Alex’s tone was a little awkward but Tom paid it no mind. He was enjoying his new fame in the crytozoology world too much to try and parse his best friend being weird. For the last few years, Alex had been weird more often than not.

Tom poked the screen again, zooming in on the bubbly, bright orange… eggs. “That’s so cool. I’d have thought it was hurt, or something. It looks a little alarming.”

“That’s not really a problem for us,” Alex said. He was also peering at the screen, scratching at his stomach. He’d been doing that off and on through the afternoon, always a little uncomfortable no matter what Tom tried to do.

Maybe the ‘artesian well water’ Tom bought for his visit wasn’t settling well.

Tom clicked to another picture - this time of a moonfish without the orange banding, trying to fold into a sewer pipe. For how large they were, it was amazing what a creature lacking bones could manage to fit into.

“So they lay eggs,” Tom repeated, jotting down notes. “You know, when all this first happened I didn’t really think that any of this stuff was real. But now… who knows. If there’s immortal fish things out there, bigfoot might be next on the list. You’re gone most of the time, so I haven’t told you about the forums but there’s some really compelling evidence out there.”

Alex grinned at that.

“I don’t know about bigfoot but I’ll tell Nessie next time I see her.”

Tom spun in his chair to stare at his friend.

“You’re shitting me.”

Alex kept a straight face for a long moment, and then broke, laughing at the sincerity on Tom’s face.

“Yeah, I am. I’ve never met her, at least.” Then he paused, pressing his hand against his side. “Actually, do you mind if we sit down for a minute?”

“Mi casa,” Tom said, gesturing at the couch. Unlike some people he could name, he was actually having to work for his lodging, which meant a studio flat. The lack of privacy wasn’t usually an issue, because Alex slept in the tub. Tom hoped he appreciated how hard that had been to find in London, the land of tiny shower stalls.

Alex settled, unscrewing the water bottle and gulping it down without pause for breath. Tom watched in fascination at how his throat… never moved. It was like watching someone mime drinking, except the bottle actually emptied.

“You okay? You look at little pale.”

“Yeah. It’s just… weird being in this skin again.”

It had been months since they’d seen each other. Tom reached for his notepad again.

“Does it get harder with time? I haven’t seen fish prime at all since you two eloped.”

Tom was expecting a roll of Alex’s eyes, a reminder that the older, much scarier fish-man was Alex’s… parent? Whatever the translation of the clicking throat-noise Alex once gave him was. Except they could apparently lay eggs, so ‘parent’ didn’t fit either.

Instead, his waxy skin went a light pink hue.

“It’s harder when there’s more to tuck away. It feels tighter.”

There was a logic to that, Tom could admit. Alex’s appearance hadn’t changed as much as he’d have thought, given the years that had slipped by with Tom on land and Alex underwater. His skin grew slowly, but it didn’t mean that his actual body was the same.

Alex prodded his stomach and reached for another bottle of water.

“Besides, Yassen spent a lot of time in his skin. He’s enjoying being able to relax.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, just a little incredulously. He remembered his friend’s life just fine, even if Alex had grown rose-colored blinkers. Or maybe a second eyelid. Tom had never asked about his eyes. Carefully, he jotted down another note. For a later time, when his friend looked less nauseated.

“He’s also known to be a murderous sea creature on top of a wanted criminal, so being underwater makes sense.”

 _That_ was what earned a roll of Alex’s eyes.

“Don’t you have a moonfish conspiracy to break open?” Alex asked, adding another empty bottle to the growing stack. He was still blushing, and it made him look even younger than the persistent baby-face of his false skin did. Tom watched with morbid fascination as Alex rubbed his stomach, grimacing at whatever was plaguing him. Most of the time, his friend looked completely human while he was on land. Now, though, Tom could see the skin of his neck moving.

“You okay?” He asked again, more sincerely.

“Yeah, just thirsty. Don’t worry about it.” Alex was already eyeing the fridge.

If he drank too many more, Tom was going to relegate him to tap water. Those bottles had been too expensive for the rate he was swigging them down. That Alex never had to piss was a minor miracle. And also slightly alarming. Not that Tom wanted to know how the logistics of it worked, without a dick.

Which reminded him-

“Wait. How do moonfish even get to the egg-making stage without…” he trailed off, trying to think of how to phrase ‘anything other than wriggling lung-parts’. Alex told him that moonfish could adapt to different settings - bodies stretching out and a whole lot of confusing overlap that Tom couldn’t quite make work in his mind. But he’d never mentioned any type of genitalia, not even in defense of his crotch misadventures.

Alex stared. “Are you asking me how I have sex.”

“I’m asking you how you have sex,” Tom confirmed. Hey, it was fair - Alex knew the mechanics of what went on whenever he brought a girl over. Just because his friend had grown tentacles didn’t exempt him from the bro-code.

Alex pulled a face at him.

“We don’t, not really. Not that I know of. It’s more like,” he made a vague hand gesture, fingers wriggling. “Sometimes, when one fish monster loves another very much, they exist in the same space, and then things happen.”

“That was a terrible explanation,” Tom told him. He couldn’t put ‘things happen’ in his folder about fish monster biology. And he was _definitely_ going to come back to the whole ‘love’ thing when Alex looked a little more like himself. Less green around the edges.

Sometimes he felt a little bad, using his friend for information. But there were more things out there than anyone had imagined, and the world was a brighter place than most people ever realized. Alex was a part of that, and Tom… didn’t really have a place in that world, but he could try and make sure that people knew it existed.

“Sometimes we eat each other’s faces, but that’s not really sexual,” Alex offered with a hopeful expression. “It’s nice. Really zen.” And then he groaned, curling around a pillow he’d stolen.

Watching his friend sink lower and lower into the couch, Tom didn’t have the heart to argue with him. Just got up to get another bottle of water, not wanting to press the point.

Alex took it gratefully.

“Sorry I’m a little out of it,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting this to feel as heavy as it does. It’s easier underwater.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re visiting.”

The smile was pulled tight at the corners, but looked genuine.

“Does your stomach hurt?”

“It’s just really full. The water helps,” Alex said. And then, looking shy, tugged up his shirt to show what he was talking about.

Tom couldn’t help but stare.

The skin of Alex’s stomach was bulging under the loose shirt that he’d pulled on. Not like he’d put on weight, but like something was inside him. It was as close to horror movie special effects that Tom had ever seen in real life. Parts of his skin were moving, like his neck had been, earlier. Rippling like a tide pool. In other places, the surface of his stomach was the texture of bubble-wrap, pebbled and eerily round.

“Do you want to get to the tub?” He asked, a bit nervously. That always made things better before.

The answer was a quick nod, and then Alex was slowly standing up. Awkward under the weight of something Tom couldn’t see. When he walked, it was with a rocking sway. Nearly a waddle, as he hugged himself and tugged miserably at the clothes Tom leant him.

Tom hurried ahead and turned on the faucet. By the time he turned around, Alex was naked and already coming out of his body. Deep red fronds, wiggling in the air. Body looking… looser, around the edges.

Alex climbed in, sinking under the water quickly. It seemed to stop the transformation. Or at least, it was enough to make him less confusing to look at.

Tom nudged one of the tendrils underwater where it was flopped over the edge of the tub, and watched as Alex’s body shivered. He settled, eyes closing and everything… extra on his body calming down. There wasn’t much space in his tiny bathroom, but Alex changed to fill it. A riot of color that was utterly inhuman. Pinks and reds, vivid blue and hints of deep orange between the moving fronds.

He’d visited plenty of times before and this had never happened. Tom swallowed down the jittery nerves in his chest. Before, when Alex had just been a spy instead of a living conspiracy theory, he’d have nagged him to go to the hospital and get patched up. Now, there was nothing he could do if his friend was sick.

With the tub full, Tom reached over to turn the showerhead on to the ‘rain’ setting, and resigned himself to a flooded bathroom.

“If you can hear me under there: you have to let me know if you’re dying.”

With a hand that didn’t move right, Alex gave him a thumbs-up.

* * *

The tub stayed occupied for the rest of the day, and then until lunch on Sunday. Tom had planned for them to spend the weekend together, and if he hadn’t been so worried about his friend, he might have resented having to cancel all his plans. Instead, he wandered around the flat, or sat on the edge of the toilet with the lid flipped down to talk to Alex, who would come up to rest his head on the side of the tub.

Tom had folded up a washcloth, just to try and make him a pillow. It worked, or at least it worked enough to make Alex happy.

That night, Tom ate chinese takeout, and Alex indulged with a can of sparkling water.

Sunday afternoon, Alex levered himself out of the water and dripped his way out to the kitchen, where Tom was eating granola out of the bag. He looked wet and naked, in the ken-doll sort of way that Tom had come to see as normal. Human, aside from the slits on his neck that shone with mucous, opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Alex stared at him, opening his mouth, then closing it with a soft click.

“Yeah?” Tom prompted.

“I need a favor.”

“Anything.” Tom meant it, too. Whatever was going on with Alex, he wanted to help. Especially if it got him out of his bathroom so he could take a shower. Not a priority in the big scheme of things, but Tom’s mind had jumped to a fate of trying to scrub clean in the sink while his friend recovered.

Alex touched his neck, then trailed his hand down his body to hold his stomach. It was flat now, but he was still moving gingerly.

“I need to get back to the ocean. This was the first time with… and I think I overestimated my timeline on land.”

There was something missing in the middle of the phrase, but Tom was preoccupied with logistics. He had no issue with a bit of fraud if Alex wanted to use his card for the tube, but he had a feeling ‘underground’ wasn’t something that Alex wanted to do right now.

Even years ago, gaining his gills came with a healthy dose of claustrophobia. Something to do with almost being buried alive, Tom was willing to bet. With a few days of feeling off and looking pale, Tom would be surprised if Alex was even happy being inside.

“What do you need me to do.”

“I need Yassen. Can you call him? Or just lend me your phone?”

Alex said it like a grave request. Tom perked up.

“You mean I’m actually going to see him again?” Their last encounter, if you could call it that, was Tom squinting out at the harbor where Yassen was lurking in the gloom. Visible because his head in all its monstrous glory was above the water, watching carefully as Alex said goodbye to Tom and let him know he was going to be laying low with Yassen while all the upset from the dock incident with MI6 died down.

To Tom, the older moonfish had looked like a tangle of spines and tentacles and reflective eyes.

And then Alex vanished with him, only emerging every few months to touch base. Tom had never begrudged him his privacy, but the idea of actually talking to the man Alex was living with was incredibly tempting.

Alex picked up on that.

“Since I need him to pick me up, yeah. So please just… don’t be weird.”

Moonfish were peaceable creatures, Tom knew. Sometimes he thought they were closer to plants than to animals. But that didn’t meant that the man who’d lived most his life on land as a contract killer would have any issues with things getting violent. It only meant Tom wouldn’t get eaten.

Small comforts.

“Does he have a car?”

With the tube off the table, and a taxi laughable… they had limited options. And with Alex still moving like he was worried all his insides would fall out, a walk to the river was also a bad solution.

“He can get one.”

Tom munched on his handful of granola and made the executive decision not to worry about how ominous that sounded.

“Okay then. You can use my phone, and I’ll put out a bottle of water for him.” Always nice to make a good impression. He unlocked his phone and handed it over, swallowing a smile at the way Alex hesitated. Time might have left him behind, just a bit, but technology marched on.

“He keeps a satellite phone for us,” Alex explained, dialing. “From when he was working. He’ll have it while I’m visiting.”

That sounded reasonable enough to Tom, who at this point knew more about monsters than he did organized crime.

Alex pressed the phone to his ear, hugging himself with his free arm. Based on the quick smile, he hadn’t had to wait more than one ring.

There wasn’t far that could be gone in his tiny flat, but Tom still busied himself with the dishes, trying to give Alex privacy as he wandered to the bathroom again. Parts of the conversation still floated through the walls.

_“-feeling good” “any car-” “Yeah, I know it was risky.” “-no, doesn’t know-”_

Tom wasn’t going to ask. That little notepad was for cryptid research, not the private life of his best friend.

After a while, Alex came back in. He still looked pale and unsteady on his feet, but so relieved that Tom felt himself relax on reflex too.

“All good?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon. Sorry to cut the visit short - maybe next time you could come to the beach?”

“If you’re sick, you’re sick,” Tom brushed the apology off. “And we’ll see about the beach. You heal fast, now. Whatever’s going on should be fine by the time for our next weekend.”

Maybe if he said it with enough conviction, it would be true.

Alex didn’t seem to share his confidence, glancing at Tom from the corner of his eye. He’d pulled back on the shirt, but left off his pants. It gave Alex a bizarre waifish look, despite the more fishy aspects of his appearance.

“I don’t know if sick is the right word,” he hedged.

Tom stared at him, aware that there was something in the room that he just couldn’t connect the dots well enough to see.

Alex shrugged one shoulder and slunk back to the couch. Grabbing the pillow from yesterday and curling around it.

“I told him just to come up.”

Tom nodded, then realized Alex couldn’t see him. 

“Sure. Yeah. Okay, that sounds good.” 

It sounded vaguely terrifying, but he’d known it was coming and there was no point getting worried about it now. Instead, Tom started shoving the young-adult mess that he never bothered cleaning for Alex into bags and drawers. Trying to tidy up.

The first impression of Yassen Gregorovich in the (fake) flesh was not what Tom expected. Rather than a criminal or even an eldritch monster, he seemed more like a mother hen. Bypassing Tom and his offered bottle of water entirely, he headed straight for Alex.

“Are you healthy? Can you breathe?” Quick questions, taking Alex’s hand and peering at it, plainly seeing something that Tom couldn’t. Alex smiled at him, more at ease than he’d been all weekend.

“I’m just… full. More than I thought. It’s… uncomfortable, on land.”

Yassen nodded, and didn’t let go of Alex for a moment.

“The car is outside. It’s a short drive.”

Alex nodded, swaying forward until his forehead was resting on Yassen’s hip. Tom suppressed a reflexive shiver at seeing Alex’s skin split across his forearm, letting tiny tentacles emerge, papping at Yassen’s hand. Wrapping around his fingers, because holding hands one way just wasn’t enough, apparently.

Maybe his joke about eloping hadn’t been as far off as Tom had thought.

“I don’t know why he’s sick,” Tom said. He was edging closer to the two of them. Playing with the bottle in his hands. “He was fine at first and then yesterday he had to lay in the tub.”

_Please don’t blame me._

“He’s not sick,” Yassen said. “It’s personal.” He flicked his eyes directly toward Tom for the first time. Somehow the reflective golden eyes in his memory, peering at him from over the waterline, were less unnerving than the pale blue ones Tom saw now. No matter how human they looked.

“Of course. Sure. You’d know best.”

Yassen dropped the stare, apparently satisfied with Tom’s nervous agreement. How Alex liked spending time around this person, Tom would never understand. But his friend hadn’t so much as lifted his head during the little standoff, more preoccupied with melting into Yassen’s side.

“Sooner is better,” Alex muttered into his hip.

“Then let’s go. There’s nothing here you need,” replied Yassen. One hand landing on Alex’s head.

Tom wished he could argue, but Alex had showed up like he always did - in slightly unseasonal clothes that he swapped out as quickly as possible, with nothing in his pockets.

He just didn’t like the implication that he would also be left so easily behind.

“I’m coming.” And then, before anyone could argue, Tom held up a finger. “Did you steal the car or buy it?”

Yassen gave him a low look. As if reminding himself of all the reasons that Alex would be distressed if his best friend wound up dead. It would have been more frightening for someone less stubborn.

“I purchased it. The risk of being stopped was too high.”

It made sense. London wasn’t known for being skimpy with traffic cameras.

“Perfect,” Tom said. “I’ll keep the car, you both go back to the ocean, and we don’t have to worry about this happening again.”

Tom was pretty sure that his logic was sound, or at least that arguing would have taken up too much time, because Yassen didn’t protest when Tom followed them down to the car. It was enough of a victory that he didn’t even mention the way Alex leaned into the arm around his waist for support as he and Yassen walked down the half-flight of stairs.

They piled into the car: Yassen driving, Alex in the backseat with Tom. The rear windows were blacked out, which meant Alex could let his neck open up without worry.

It didn’t stop _Tom_ from worrying, though. He kept a careful hand on Alex’s knee as the car bumped along, heading out of town. They didn’t just need the beach, they needed privacy. Tom could only assume that Yassen had somewhere in mind.

‘Emergency saltwater extraction’ wasn’t how he’d expected the weekend to end.

Yassen swung the car into a parking space, tucked behind an abandoned dumpster and a tiny storage shack. There were no other cars around and the weather loomed ominously on the horizon. It was as good as they were going to get.

Tom helped bundle Alex out of the car and into Yassen’s waiting arms, then held his hand out for the key.

“I’m going to have to get back somehow,” he said when then man hesitated.

The silence stretched and then - _“Yassen,”_ Alex hissed.

Tom was tucking the keys into his pocket a moment later.

The trip down to the water went more quickly than their staggering pace earlier - likely because neither Yassen or Alex were trying to mimic a human gait any more. Tom lagged behind as their strides lengthened into a rolling lope, peeling clothes off as they stayed close together. Yassen’s transformation went more smoothly than Alex’s. His skin seemed to roll back and vanish, rather than being burst through with spines and tentacles and gills and any number of things that Tom didn’t have good words to describe.

Alex mostly just seemed desperate to get into the tide.

He hit the waves at the shore and lurched out of Yassen’s arms, falling forward into the water without hesitation.

Even looking for it, Tom couldn’t tell when his body changed shape, only that the water couldn’t be deep enough for Alex to vanish the way he did. The physics of their species never failed to amaze him. From the videos that were shared online of moonfish folding up to escape down water drains or their vast limbs under sheets of ice, it made his head hurt, just a little.

Yassen walked more gracefully into the water, letting it surround his knees and then up to his chest. He didn’t bother looking back to where Tom was splashing clumsily into the ocean, too.

“Are you all going to come back?” Tom called. He felt small, out here with just the grey sand and heavy sky and endless water.

“If Alex wants,” Yassen answered. Absentmindedly, barely lifting his voice. And then he was gone, too. Under the water. Just barely Tom could see two giant shapes moving over the seafloor, more like shadows than any sign of bodies.

He stood there for a while, feeling the water soak further up his trousers, lips going salty from the spray.

Just before he was about to turn around and go back to his new car - something he would be excited about when he had his head on straight - something slimy and frayed wrapped around his calf.

Tom jumped half out of his skin, body recoiling and _‘jellyfish!’ ‘shark!’_ rocketing around his brain as he tried to get away. He wound up half-tripping, half-tugged into the water, and then his focus was solely on trying not to drown. What had seemed like a modest depth when he was wading in after his friend was suddenly trying to swallow him at the neck.

The grip around his leg let go, and Tom scrambled to sit up, eyes stinging and coughing water out of his throat.

A pair of chagrined, golden eyes stared at him, just a little bit deeper in the sea.

“Thanks for that,” Tom panted. There were only two moonfish he knew, and Gregorovich had barely been interested in him while they were sharing a car, much less with the entire ocean at his back.

Tendrils slapped at the water. Tom decided it looked apologetic enough for him.

“Thanks for coming back to say goodbye,” he said. “I hope you feel better.”

Another round of slapping. Slowly, achingly, Alex raised himself out of the water. Showing Tom his chest, and more importantly - the long ribbons of bright orange eggs tucked into the confusing mess of his body. His chest was clear and rubbery - but there were no organs inside, just more lungs and tentacles and the foamy mess of eggs.

Realization set in quickly, and Tom had no idea what his face was doing but he was sure it was nothing flattering.

It made sense, given how the weekend had gone, thinking back to how Alex had hedged around the subject.

 _Something personal_.

That had been the understatement of the century.

Alex was already sinking back under the waves, until just his odd, slightly shell-like head remained above the surface. Staring at Tom.

“Ah - congratulations?” Tom tried, the word feeling strange in his mouth. The time for a conversation about safe monster sex had obviously passed. But Tom had started this whole thing by being a good fucking friend, and he wasn’t about to stop now.

A longer, stronger tentacle raised up, crashing down to send a wave to soak what parts of Tom managed to remain dry. As smug a response as he could imagine.

It was also a proper goodbye - as Tom swiped seawater from his eyes and shook his head to keep it from his ears, he watched Alex slip back into the ocean, not leaving so much as a ripple behind.

Tom struggled to his feet, staring out at the waves that felt just a little less empty.

More strange, but less empty.

He raised his hands, cupping them around his mouth to shout, _‘Make me the godfather!’_ After Alex, wherever he’d gotten to.

This time, nothing answered him. But Tom felt more okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you liked! This has the record for the only thing I've ever written in one sitting - but was so fun that I wanted to get it out as soon as my fingers stopped moving.


End file.
